


The Charm

by blithesea



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Co-workers, Finalizer (Star Wars), Fraternization, Impotence, M/M, dadt in outer space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11742231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithesea/pseuds/blithesea
Summary: Mitaka has performance concerns. Thanisson is there to help.





	1. 1st time

**Author's Note:**

> As always, oodles of love to my cookie for fabulous beta, and a kiss for following me even to the depraved depths of SW fiction. <3

Of all the lessons Dopheld Mitaka had learned at the First Order Academy, one proved most helpful for his actual day-to-day service on the Finalizer: The key to a successful clandestine affair was strategic planning.

The arrangement was good. Clever. Secure. Foolproof. If either of them felt like it, they gave the signal, an unsigned transmission of meaningless cyphers. If the other was free and in the mood, they met, they got each other off, they left. Unobtrusive meeting places had been scouted and agreed on, were routinely rotated on a random pattern. Clothes were never taken off, barely even mussed. There were no messes to get rid of, no supplies to acquire beforehand. Just oral sex, which supplied its own clean-up. Hardly any chance of detection, minimal risk of fraternization charges. The arrangement was perfect.

Mitaka was looking down at Petty Officer Thanisson’s head in the dim light, watching the lazy motion with which Thanisson was undoing his uniform trousers. Thanisson himself was still languid and relaxed from his own orgasm a few minutes ago. He liked to be first, usually stormed into their meeting place wound-up and stir-crazy, barely even managed a civil greeting before fumbling with the fastenings of his trousers and pushing Mitaka to his knees.

Mitaka didn’t mind that. He liked it, even. It showed a dedication to efficiency even in the most casual situations that surely would have gained their superiors’ approval in other circumstances.

In fact, it was something of a shame that the beneficial character of their illicit meetings would never get any official recognition, Mitaka mused while watching Thanisson push his underwear aside and pull out his cock. He sighed when Thanisson’s cool fingers touched him, then again when his hot mouth took their place. Surely… He gasped and clenched his hands into fists, Thanisson sucking him down with typical dedication. …Surely the positive side-effects of their arrangement extended to their professional performance as well. Mitaka knew for a fact that he slept better after their meetings. Had a heartier appetite. Undoubtedly was a tad more focused at work as a consequence.

Could this be backed up with data? Mitaka imagined pulling his and Thanisson’s performance records, pointing out the relevant spikes in a presentation for the top brass. Making a case for redefining fraternization rules. Emphasizing the overall benefits. Like ensuring all physical functions were working as prompted, natural yearning to form social connections kept in check. He might even draw the connection to First Order vitamin supplements, mandatory cardiovascular exercise blocks, routine quarterly psych evaluations. _Circle any of the following statements that feel appropriate: Sometimes I yearn for a human connection in the cold lonely depths of space. That airlock is starting to look more appealing every day. My serotonin rations_

Suddenly, the loss of warmth and suction startled him out of his musings. Thanisson was letting Mitaka’s cock slip out of his mouth, the slurp sounding very loud in the small, cramped storage space. Mitaka peered down at him, tried to see what was wrong.

“Something on your mind?”

Thanisson’s lips were red and slick with saliva, his cheeks flushed. His voice was rough, a bit hoarse. Had he been at it for long? Sometimes it took Mitaka a little while to get to the point, but that had never seemed to faze Thanisson before.

“No,” Mitaka lied. He hopefully nudged his dick towards Thanisson’s mouth. “Go on?”

For a moment Thanisson was ignoring the damp cock brushing against his cheek, and Mitaka worried that he was going to ask something else. Then Thanisson turned his head and sucked Mitaka down again, half-closing his eyes. Mitaka sighed and sagged against the shelf he was leaning on. His hands started to move towards Thanisson’s hair, but he managed to hold himself back just in time and held them stiffly against his sides instead.

That one time he had touched Thanisson’s hair before, it hadn’t really gone very well. For one, the feel of it wasn’t exactly appealing. The regulation issue hair product rendered it crinkly and stiff. Mitaka had tried to run his fingers through it, but had quickly gotten stuck. He had tried to pet Thanisson’s hair lightly, gently, get rid of the stiffness that way. That completely ruined the straight, neat do. Thanisson claimed he had received a demerit for sloppy appearance when he ran into a superior officer afterwards. He hadn’t responded to Mitaka’s signal for two whole standard weeks after that.

Cool air suddenly bit into his sensitive, damp skin. Thanisson had stopped again. Mitaka wondered what the matter was now -- then he realized. Oh.

Thanisson looked up at him, eyebrows raised, and Mitaka felt his ears heat up. For awhile, neither of them spoke.

Mitaka broke eye contact first, reached down, took his completely flaccid cock in his own hand and squeezed a few times, desperate to prompt a proper reaction while his mind tried to come up with a reason how _that_ could have happened, in the middle of Thanisson going down on him? It was inconceivable! After a few moments of fruitless exertion, he had to admit to himself that it was a hopeless endeavour. He stopped. Cleared his throat. “Well.”

Thanisson just looked up at him, waiting. Mitaka decided that the only way to deal with the situation was to keep a stiff upper lip. Terrible choice of idiom as it was. He took a deep breath.

“Work… has been terribly stressful lately, I suppose.”

His voice sounded thin and strained to his own ears. He tried a smile and a shrug, starting to put himself away. “Rain check?”

Thanisson leaned back on his heels. “We still got some time.”

“True, but… I don’t think time is exactly the issue.”

“If you’re sure.” Thanisson didn’t sound convinced, but after a moment’s hesitation he was getting up, knees popping.

“Absolutely,” Mitaka replied briskly, doing his best to smarten up his attire when there wasn’t that much out of place to begin with. He wished he could just leave, but in their usual routine, it was always Thanisson who left first. He didn’t want to give Thanisson the idea that he was running away. After all, what was there to run from?

“So, uh. See you next time then?”

“Yes, of course! Next time.” It was a tricky thing, trying to be no less nor more enthusiastic than usual, and Mitaka felt that he might have overdone it a tad. But Thanisson was doing him a favor by ignoring him and opening the door, carefully checking the surroundings before slipping out. Mitaka started to breathe more freely and allowed himself a moment of contemplation.

He felt no desire to dwell on his, well, his shortcomings that day. Work really had been stressful of late, with the construction of Starkiller Base finally greenlit and increased rebel activities slowing down First Order progress at every turn. He had let it get into his head, apparently, and had reaped the consequences. All perfectly normal, nothing to worry about there. Surely everyone went through something similar now and again. And after all was said and done, didn’t he now have a stock of pent-up desire twice as large in store for their next meeting? Mitaka felt positive that nothing of the sort was ever going to happen to him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a reference to my favourite Mitaka fic in this chapter. Spot it, and you get a gold star. :D


	2. 2nd time

“Look, let’s not make a big thing out of this.”

“OK.”

“Just a phase, I’m sure. And, well, at least you, I mean. We didn’t meet completely for _nothing_ , you did--”

“Right.”

“And I wouldn’t want you to think it’s personal, just because…”

“I don’t.”

“Good. That’s, that’s good.”

“...”

“...”

“I guess I’ll head off then.”

“Yes, I think that would be--”

“Unless you want to try again?”

“N-no. Look, the gamma shift will be coming in soon, we should really--”

“Alright then.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

 

“...”

“Did you, should I leave first? I really think we should get going, we might get caught in the radion sweep--”

“We could do something else.”

“Something else?”

“If you want.”

“Look, I don’t… I mean, I appreciate your, your, well, _enthusiasm_ , but it’s really nothing. Just a blip, well, two blips I suppose, but it doesn’t mean anything. There’s no need to make a fuss, I’ll try to catch up on my sleep and, and maybe take some vitamin B. There’s nothing wrong with how we… I mean, I don’t think there is? There really isn’t, it’s not that.”

“Alright, but--”

“Remember just now, five minutes ago, when we agreed not to make a thing of it? Please?”

“Fine.”

“OK. So.”

“See you next time, then.”

“...Yes. Of course. Next time.”


	3. 3rd time

There was that inventory droid again, for what felt like the hundredth time. A quick look at his chrono told him that he had been waiting for more than half an hour now. 

Five more minutes, he was only going to wait for five more minutes. Why hadn’t he sent the blasted signal before? 

Mitaka had not expected their ‘next time’ to happen anytime soon after that last one. Their meetings had always been irregular, they rarely got together more than twice in a standard week. Still, he had caught himself watching their comm channel more often than usual, snatching moments even during bridge duty to see if Thanisson had sent a signal. There was none. One week had turned into two, then three. Mitaka had checked whether Thanisson’s unit had any off-ship comprehensive training scheduled, though he already knew the answer. He had looked up Thanisson’s shore leave dates, although he had those memorized. He had even checked if Thanisson had been admitted to sick bay after being involved in any freak tie-fighter landing accidents. Nothing applied. Apparently Thanisson was alive and well, reporting for duty every day on the dot. Just not feeling the urge to blow off any steam with Mitaka, it seemed.

Surely that wasn’t right? Thanisson was a healthy young man, and even if in all likelihood not _entirely_ dependent on their mutual outlet, surely he had to be feeling the lack of it, as well? Perhaps even missing it? So why had he kept up this radio silence?

More than once, Mitaka had been on the verge of just sending the signal, and stopped at the last moment. He then chided himself for making such a big issue of the whole thing. If he had wanted to see Thanisson, he should have just gone ahead. That was why he had come up with the whole arrangement in the first place, to nil his own tendency to overthink things and concentrate on the pure pleasure of getting off, free of consequences.

 _And look how well that’s been working lately_ , Mitaka felt like pointing out to himself.

Still, not to contact Thanisson although he wanted to was childish and cowardly. Undeserving. Even if he had failed to bring their get-together to its natural conclusion (twice), it did not follow logically that Thanisson was holding it against him. Thanisson had still gotten his time’s worth, after all. Perhaps he was merely being polite. Mitaka could hear Thanisson scoff in his mind at this. Fine, maybe not polite. Perhaps he was waiting for Mitaka to make the next move in order not to seem greedy. Or perhaps he was waiting for a sign that Mitaka had gotten over whatever it was that had impeded him lately.

The disquieting fact was, Mitaka still had no idea if he had gotten over it. That was because he did not know what ‘it’ was. He had made a valiant effort not to think about the whole debacle at all at first. Of course at once his mind had started churning like a sub-light engine. After all, once in awhile was surely normal, negligible, unworthy of a deeper analysis, but twice? What if it was a medical condition, a symptom of something terminal? What if he had been exposed to radiation, bacteria, fungi? He had hastened to schedule a complete interior check-up, and when it turned out that he was quite the picture of good health, was left alone with the most frightening conclusion imaginable: that ‘it’ was All In His Head.

Perhaps if this had happened at a different time and place in his life, if he had been home and at leisure, he might have sought out some professional help, but here, now? Take up counseling on the Finalizer, in the middle of war preparations? There were easier and less painful ways to shoot his career in the head if he were so inclined.

No, as the case stood, he was left to his own resources to deal with this. And the only course of action he could decide on after much deliberation was to stop brooding and get a move on. If he could only pretend that everything was quite alright, then reality might soon follow suit. Mind over matter, and all that. Before he could start to question the wisdom of this conclusion, he had quickly sent the signal. Then there had been nothing to do but to go to the meeting place.

As he stood waiting in a dark corner of the upper mess hall storage room, counting the times the inventory droid was rolling by within a ten-minute time frame (two and a third), he started to wonder if maybe Thanisson had decided on his own solution for dealing with the situation. By simply not showing up anymore.

Had he left it for too long? Perhaps Thanisson had surmised after a while that he, Mitaka, was no longer interested, and moved on to someone else? The more he thought about it, the more likely it appeared. After all, Thanisson was young, and had always been quite enthusiastic about the whole thing. And then to go a whole month without the mutual satisfaction they had gotten used to? No, that seemed a bit much to expect.

He should have sent the stupid signal weeks ago. All this time wasted, and for what? Mitaka had no more idea what was wrong with him than the last time they had met. Perhaps he was never going to find out. But did that have to mean they had to stop meeting, just like that? There were still things he could do, he could still make sure Thanisson was having a good time, it didn’t mean Thanisson had to drop him like an old hat. He could still go down on Thanisson, he liked going down on him. Liked the way Thanisson muttered under his breath, not loud enough for him to actually make out the words, but the tone of it told him enough, a steady stream of encouragement, praise, demands, entreaties. Perhaps if they ever were somewhere private, without having to worry about surveillance systems or passers-by, Thanisson would relax enough to not keep quiet, to let him hear. Perhaps he would even say Mitaka’s name, out loud.

There was a twinge, his trousers suddenly uncomfortably snug. Mitaka felt a little thrill in his stomach. Not all was lost, it seemed! Why was Thanisson not there yet, was he even coming? Another look at his chrono confirmed the sneaking suspicion. He had been waiting for over an hour now. This was not merely Thanisson being late. He definitely was not coming.

It was a good thing, truly, Mitaka reassured himself while he trudged back to his quarters. Thanisson had done what he himself had been unable to do and made a decision. Now there was absolutely no risk of him faltering again and ending the encounter in frustration for both of them. A clean cut, surgical precision. It was admirable, really. Thanisson had done them both a favour.

Now he was finally free to put all this behind himself and fully concentrate on work, Mitaka decided as he got ready to go to bed. And after a little while, maybe half a year or so, he might find the time and inclination to try again. Or perhaps he better wait until the construction of Starkiller Base was finished. It wouldn’t do to put his own needs before those of the First Order. Maybe he should take General Hux as an example. Great ambition and even greater accomplishments! The man had obviously given up on any semblance of a private life years ago.

Yes, indeed, Thanisson had done him a favour, putting him back on track towards promotion and his own command somewhere down the line. He only had to wait for a bit. That hollow feeling of regret and loneliness was sure to start fading soon.

Sleep took a long time in coming. Counting breaths did not help, nor did going over the new delta cannon schematics in his mind. So when the entrance chime to his door started chirping, Mitaka was wide awake. And when he opened the lock mechanism, blinked at the harsh light in the hallway and saw Thanisson standing there, it was not a dream.

“Hey,” Thanisson said, breathlessly.

“Hey,” Mitaka said, at a loss. “What are you doing here?”

“I got your signal.”

“Yes, but that was, I waited for you, you didn’t--”

He broke off when something caught his eye over Thanisson’s shoulder, was someone coming down the hall? What if they were seen like this? He quickly pulled Thanisson inside and closed the door. Thanisson was looking somewhat apologetic.

“I couldn’t get away earlier, there was a malfunction in the landing protocols and the supe made us go through the debugging program until we had three fail-free passes, fourteen times total!”

“Oh.” Mitaka noticed that Thanisson was still out of breath, and there was a slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

“Why did you… have you been running?”

Thanisson looked at him, one eyebrow quirked. “I got your signal.”

“Oh,” Mitaka said again, feeling exceedingly stupid from this unexpected turn of events. “But these are my _quarters_ …”

“Yeah,” Thanisson said patiently, and then took a good look around, taking in the viewport, the leisure corner with the couch, the bed. “They’re nice.”

“But we’ve never…” Mitaka interjected helplessly. This wasn’t part of the arrangement, personal living quarters didn’t enter into it. He hadn’t even imagined that Thanisson knew where his quarters were.

“Yeah, but. Well, I thought, if you send the signal after all this time, and I don’t turn up… I didn’t want you to think I’d given up on it or anything.”

“Of course not,” Mitaka said, and only blushed a little.

“Yeah, I know, not likely. I thought, just in case,” Thanisson shrugged.

There was a pause. Mitaka wasn’t sure how to go on. “So, you still want to…?”

Thanisson looked at him, let his eyes run over him, top to bottom, and suddenly Mitaka remembered he was in his sleeping clothes, a simple regulation undershirt and regulation briefs. It was silly to feel bashful for all this bare skin in front of someone whose cock he had sucked more times than he could remember (37 times), but Thanisson was looking, no, he was all but _leering_.

“Yeah,” Thanisson said, eyes smiling. “You?”

Mitaka hesitated, just for a moment. Not because he resented that the plan to devote himself to his career was suddenly pushed very far to the sidelines -- Thanisson was making a much better case, just by being there. But there was still the possibility that he, Mitaka, might not manage to follow through, when it was his turn. It was one thing to fail in an anonymous hallway or a deserted training room. To do so in his own rooms, which he returned to every day, and which would remind him of his inadequacies forever after--

But there Thanisson was, looking at him like he was an extra helping of dessert, and there really wasn’t much of a question about it.

“Absolutely,” he nodded, pleased by the way Thanisson’s eyes lit up hearing it.

However, when he was about to get right to the point and down on his knees, Thanisson held him back. Something nervous fluttered in his stomach.

“What is it? I thought you--”

“I thought maybe we could do it differently this time. I mean...” Thanisson cast a meaningful look at their surroundings, and if Mitaka wasn’t entirely mistaken, he seemed particularly interested in the general vicinity of the bed. “We do have all this space for once, and no one likely to come in and distract us…”

Mitaka found it hard to argue with Thanisson’s rather flawless logic. He swallowed and asked, “Different how, exactly?”

“Well, for instance,” Thanisson started, then simply reached for him and started to kiss him.

And they had kissed before, of course. They must have. Thanisson’s kiss was entirely familiar, the way he moved, the way his tongue invited Mitaka in, and the little moans and sighs he made, how he turned into the touch when Mitaka cupped his jaw, how he shivered when Mitaka’s fingers grazed the back of his neck. All of that Mitaka had known, remembered as soon as their lips touched, which made it even more startling, because it had been forever since they had last done this. Why, though, why had they ever stopped? He dimly recalled having to rush, never enough time, going for Thanisson’s cock directly, saving precious minutes. But now Thanisson’s hands were holding him close by the waist, resting on the small of his back, and his tongue was slowly, thoroughly making love to Mitaka’s mouth, and every small noise Thanisson uttered seemed to go straight to Mitaka’s groin. Now he couldn’t imagine being quite in his right mind and giving this up.

One of Thanisson’s hands was sliding under the hem of his undershirt and made Mitaka shudder. “Mother of Moons, your hands are cold!” he complained, breaking the kiss for a moment.

“Well, warm them up, then,” Thanisson muttered, seeking his mouth again, and now both hands were under his shirt, unfairly.

With a grunt, Mitaka started to fumble with the closures of Thanisson’s uniform, aiming to rectify this imbalance of undress and get at Thanisson’s skin, a novel pursuit, but he was quickly frustrated with his fruitless efforts. He undressed _himself_ every day, he knew for a fact that he could get Thanisson’s uniform pants undone within seconds in near darkness, how could this be so hard?

“A little help?”

Thanisson gave a little put-upon huff but began to undo his uniform jacket readily enough while Mitaka maneuvered them towards the bed during intermittent kisses. There he sat down on the edge, pulling Thanisson towards him under the pretense of helping to pull off his jacket. They collapsed onto the covers, a hopeless jumble of groping and caressing with only dim hopes of actually getting rid of Thanisson’s clothes, not really bothered by how slowly their progress crawled along. Mitaka managed to wedge his hand between the firm uniform trousers and thin underpants to cup Thanisson’s arse, a gesture that seemed very much appreciated, but there was no way he could manage to slide down the trousers completely, try as he might. “Boots,” Mitaka demanded, in between mouthfuls of Thanisson. “Off!”

“Okay, okay, hang on,” Thanisson demurred, wiggling away from Mitaka to get rid of them in earnest. He yanked one off and flung it towards the doorway, then attacked the second with even greater vigour. It came off with enough force to tip Thanisson over the edge of the bed, and he hit the floor with a resounding thump.

“Oh no,” Mitaka laughed, unable to help himself. “Did you break something?”

“Only my immortal pride, my everlasting dignity,” Thanisson grumbled, climbing up onto the bed again. At least he had had the good sense to leave his trousers right on the floor. “Nothing important.”

“Well, good thing you didn’t fall on your mouth,” Mitaka reasoned, kissing the lips in question to emphasise his point. “Then where would we be?”

“If I told you I fell on my ass, would you kiss it better?” Thanisson asked, worming his terribly cold hands under the front of Mitaka’s shirt, turning his nipples into hard little pebbles.

“I’d say your ass is already fine, with no room for improvement,” Mitaka muttered, pulling down Thanisson’s underpants to get closer to that marvel of anatomy. However, he was waylaid by the sight of Thanisson’s cock, hard and straining up towards him, a glint of wetness glistening at the very tip. A sight well-known, familiar, like an old friend. It would be the height of rudeness to not give it the tiniest bit of a greeting, he thought as he bent down to give it a fond lick.

“So you _have_ noticed my ass,” Thanisson said with a gratified sigh. “I did wonder about that…didn’t seem, _oh!_ ” he moaned when Mitaka sucked him down to the root with well-practiced ease. “Didn’t seem to me like you were giving it a lot of attention, before…”

“Mmmmmmh,” Mitaka hummed his disagreement, smiled a bit when Thanisson tugged on his ears. That was usually a sign that he was getting close. He let Thanisson’s cock slip from his mouth with a wet slurp. “Already?”

“Well, it’s been five weeks, cut me some slack,” Thanisson protested. Mitaka swallowed, mirth suddenly wiped away.

“Are you serious? You haven’t, since we--?”

Thanisson laughed. “What? No, of course I have! I’m not a bloody droid…”

“Right. Of course.” Mitaka felt very foolish for supposing… of course Thanisson would have a wide choice of ports available to fly to in a storm.

“In the showers, and at night in my bunk,” Thanisson continued, pushing Mitaka’s undershirt up to suck on his collarbone. “Only,” he said thoughtfully, resting his head on Mitaka’s chest. “It’s not as good as when you do it.”

“Well.” Mitaka cleared his throat when his voice threatened to wobble. “Glad, hm. Glad to be of some kind of service, I guess.”

“Is that why you got bored?” Thanisson asked, staring elsewhere. “‘Cause you felt like you were servicing--?”

“Excuse me? I didn’t get _bored_ \--”

“Lost interest, then.”

“I didn’t!”

“Right.”

“Don’t-- it wasn’t like that!”

“Alright.”

“I liked what we had!”

Thanisson snorted, glancing at Mitaka’s crotch as he half-turned away to pull up his pants. “Obviously.”

Mitaka winced. The evidence, or lack thereof, was damning. He remembered being hard, so hard it hurt, only moments ago. Where had things taken such a bad turn?

In the meantime, Thanisson was getting up from the bed.

“You’re not leaving?” He looked at Thanisson pleadingly.

“'Fresher,” Thanisson mumbled, and was out of the room before Mitaka could stop him.

The longer he stayed away, the higher a hot panic started to rise inside Mitaka. This wasn’t something they could bounce back from, he felt sure of it. If he let Thanisson leave now, just like this, he could send the signal as often as he liked in the future. Thanisson was not going to answer it. And he sure as hell was not going to come running to Mitaka’s door ever again.

He had to find some way around this. There had to be a way, some kind of compromise so Thanisson would keep seeing him, even if he didn’t always manage to perform. He could make it good for Thanisson, better even than they had before. There was no need to change, their arrangement worked. It was secure, clever. Foolproof. Thanisson knew that. Mitaka just had to remind him of it.

There was not much time for strategic planning, though. Already, Thanisson was coming out of the refresher. He must have taken a quick shower, with the H2O setting, no less. His hair was still slightly damp and there were a few beads of water on his chest. Mitaka very much wished he could get a chance to lick them off.

“Don’t go,” he blurted out. So much for strategy.

Thanisson shrugged, frowning. “I think maybe I better.”

“No, don’t,” he stood up, crossed the narrow room to where Thanisson stood. Dropped to his knees. “Please don’t go. I’ll… I’ll make it good for you, I promise.”

“What are you doing?” Thanisson was still frowning, but at least he hadn’t moved. Mitaka leaned closer, rubbed his cheek against the softness of Thanisson’s thigh.

“We don’t have to change anything, I don’t always have to… I don’t mind. We can meet like we always did, I’ll make sure you’ll get yours, you know I will!”

There was a pause in which Mitaka held his breath. Then Thanisson was shaking his head and taking a step back, effectively dislodging Mitaka’s hold.

“No, thanks. I’ll pass.”

He walked over to the bed and started to gather his clothes.

Mitaka knelt on the floor, dumbfounded for a moment.

“Why not? Give me one reason!”

Thanisson glared at him.

“Believe it or not, I'd rather get off with someone who's actually attracted to me enough to get off with me,” he snarled while pulling up his trousers.

“What-- what are you saying? Of course I want you!” Mitaka protested.

“Yeah, right,” Thanisson muttered. “I can see that.”

“I keep telling you, that’s not it…”

“Then what is it? Stop feeding me that shit!”

Thanisson was looking at him at least, even if he was still glaring. Mitaka swallowed.

“Alright.” He forced himself to reply calmly. “I don’t like our arrangement.”

“I knew it!” Thanisson’s eyes glittered with bitter triumph.

“But it’s nothing to do with you,” Mitaka continued. “I really like you. I just hate meeting like that. In those places.”

“That was your idea!”

“I know,” Mitaka replied, starting to feel tired. He got up from the floor and sat down on the bed next to Thanisson. “I thought it was better this way. Cleaner. Easier not to get too attached. I thought I could cope with it better. But I can’t.”

He looked at Thanisson helplessly. “I want to do so much more. But I know we can’t, not now, not here. I know the bit of fun in the dark is the best we can hope for. I just don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Thanisson looked at him thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I think you’re being a bit dramatic. There’s wiggle room, you know. We can get away with things.”

“What things?”

“Well,” Thanisson said. “Nothing against the old storage unit, but the world isn’t going to end if I come over to your place now and then, if I’m a bit careful about it, right?”

Mitaka chewed on his lip. “Perhaps.”

“And there’s no hard rule for you to always use the officer’s mess. Maybe sometimes you feel the need to rub elbows with the ship grunts to remind them you’re a man of the people, and I happen to sit down at the place next to you. Notoriously crowded, the lower mess halls.”

“Huh.”

“And I’m fairly sure that if we happen to hit the same public gym some night to get the mandatory cardiovasc out of the way, and I happen to help you scrub the hard-to-reach part of your back in the sonic afterwards, well, that’s just good camaraderie.”

“I suppose.”

“And there’s shore-leave. Which we both have coming up soon, you know. What happens on Germel IV stays on Germel IV.”

Mitaka smiled. “You looked up my shore leave dates?”

“You are straying from the point,” Thanisson admonished mildly. “The point is, we can do loads of stuff, in-between the lines. If you want.”

“What stuff?” Mitaka asked hopefully.

“Well, for instance,” said Thanisson and kissed him hard enough to make the oxygen supply in the room seem to dip. By accident, Thanisson’s hand brushed against Mitaka’s groin, gasped at finding something to hold on to there.

When Mitaka looked up at him, Thanisson was smiling.

“So, are you finally going to fuck me soon, or what?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

One lesson Dopheld Mitaka found most helpful in successfully conducting his clandestine affair: strategic planning was overrated.


End file.
